


lux aeterna

by johnnysmitten



Category: Trench - Twenty One Pilots (Album), Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Trench (Album), Angst, Childhood Memories, Confinement, DEMA (Twenty One Pilots), Demaverse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Freeform, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Hope, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Psychological Trauma, Survival, Trench Era, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 10:14:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16808635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnnysmitten/pseuds/johnnysmitten
Summary: Living in a world of artificial light finally takes its toll on Tyler, and after years of worshipping Vialism, he now sees it for what it truly is. He has tried to escape before, but has never been successful... Until he reunites with someone from his past who might just have the power to help him break free from a life of confinement.(I suck at summaries, I'll update this later)





	lux aeterna

**Author's Note:**

> hi frens  
> this is my first TOP fic so be gentle with my soul  
> thank you to tyler joseph for creating & sharing this world with us- it belongs to him; I am merely giving it my own meaning and messing around with different theories  
> the first chapter will be familiar to most of you as it is pretty much just the jumpsuit music video, but the next chapters will include flashbacks to the characters' childhoods, etc  
> hope you enjoy ||-//

018 07MOON 16

His eyes opened.

An involuntary reaction.

Above, the sky was bright, blinding him for a moment until his eyes were able to adjust. In the sky, a dark spot shifted back and forth, circling around him, lower, closer with every beat of his heart. He couldn’t make out what it was he was seeing at first, but then it all came rushing back in waves.

It was a vulture.

He’d tried to escape the city.

In his peripheral vision he could make out the mountain tops surrounding him. He was in the valley. Suddenly, he felt the cold. A shiver ran through his entire body. His fingers twitched. They were wet. He was wet all over. He looked around himself, eyes finally coming back into focus. He was lying in the river. He made a fist, feeling the freezing water moving between his fingers.

How had he failed? How had he passed out? Is that even what had happened? He couldn’t recall.

The vulture above let out a shrill squawk, a deafening sound to his overly sensitive ear drums. He forced himself to sit up, keeping his eyes locked on the creature circling above him. All at once a tidal wave of numbness spread from the center of his chest to each of his limbs, disorienting him, rendering him senseless. He struggled to get to his feet, the weight of the water heavy all around him, threatening to pull him back down.

His body moved, trudging slowly forward, but it wasn’t of his own volition. Something possessed him. This wasn’t a new feeling – he’d experienced it before. Five times to be exact. Each time he tried, he’d been captured by the Bishops and taken back home to the confines of the city. He felt the presence of them now – the tingling in his hands, the tightness around his neck – like suffocation.

He choked out a breath, and though his vision was blurry, he could make out the colors – red, black, white. One of them had come for him, to take him back to his life of confinement. Back to the darkness. All thoughts of escape vanished from his mind. What had he been thinking? His plans had been foolish, nothing more than the fantasy of a misguided child.

Riding upon a white horse, the hooded figure approached, faster and faster. Yet no matter how hard his mind tried to fight, he could not move. His body was frozen in place, muscles tense. His eyes closed, awaiting the impact he was sure would come.

But nothing happened. The world fell silent, his eyes opening once again.

The Bishop had come to a stop a few feet in front of him, stepping down from his mount. This wasn’t just any Bishop – this was Nico – the highest ranking Bishop in all of Dema. Nico had never come after him before. This was new.

He tried to move his body, struggling against whatever power Nico held over him, but his control ceased to exist.

Nico strode towards him, a floating figure draped in a blood-red robe, his face barely perceptible beneath the sheer white veil covering his face. That face was enough to induce nightmares. Pale skin, dead eyes, a black tar-like substance smeared from his nose all the way down his neck. Hollow, soulless. The feeling was palpable in the air. Tyler choked and desperately tried to avert his gaze from the sight before him.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed movement atop the mountains. Silhouettes of people – a silent solidarity. He could only barely make out the color of the markings on their clothing, but it was the first thing he’d noticed, like a beacon in the distance. Yellow. The one color that did not exist in Dema.

Immediately, he knew who they were. He’d heard tales.

Rebels. Banditos. The enemy. The fallen ones.

Tyler inhaled sharply as Nico took a final step, closing in on him, stopping mere inches away. Nico reached out both hands, dragging his blackened fingers along each side of Tyler’s neck.

Oh God, he was being smeared. Whatever control Tyler had been fighting to regain was now lost again. Nico had full control over him. One leg moved in front of the other and he followed mindlessly as Nico strode forward and mounted his horse. They were heading West – back to Dema. Back to artificial light in a world of darkness.

How was it that this was happening again?

Inside Tyler’s head, he was fully aware of every move his body was making, how he was walking behind Nico’s horse, following along without the ability to stop and protest, yet he saw himself from somewhere outside of his body. A bystander. A witness.

Is that what he had become? Nothing more than a bystander in his own life? Someone who only witnessed the events and had no power to stop them?

But maybe it was better this way. Maybe the city was a safer place to be than out here on his own, where nothing was familiar. He would surely end up dead if he’d have to spend longer than a few nights out on his own in unchartered territory. Perhaps Nico was doing him a favor – looking out for him.

A jolt ran through his body, his heart picking up speed as his eyes darted about. For a split second he was able to control his eyes. Something was falling from the sky. Snow? Rain?

No. It looked like –

Petals. Flower petals.

Yellow.

The number of yellow petals falling from above was so vast that they took over the color of the sky. In front of him, Nico appeared confused, in a daze, head moving from side to side, no longer able to keep moving upon his horse in a logical manner. The horse whinnied, spinning around in a circle.

The spell had been broken! Tyler’s control had returned to him. He looked to the mountains in wonder. The Rebels were responsible for the flower petals. Were they… helping him? Breaking Nico’s hold on him? How did they know it would work?

Every last one of them gazed down upon Tyler as the flood of yellow continued to rain down around him.

Tyler didn’t think – he just ran. He ran for his life. Away from Nico. He ran until his lungs felt as though they may burst. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop now. He’d come too far, he’d sacrificed too much.

With a shallow gasp he lost his footing, tripping over something in the river.

He let out a silent curse right before everything went black.


End file.
